An unsentimental journey

Monica Kannangara

Recently, I spent six months in Sri Lanka. During this period I rented a flat in a hotel complex in Kollupitiya, Colombo 3. I was told one could take a bus ride to my main place of work, the Sri Lankan National Archives. Public transport had improved, indeed, since my last visit. Buses came on schedule but queues got longer and longer by the second. When a bus was sighted there was mayhem.

It was impossible to reach the bus. I decided to use the next best thing, the ubiquitous three wheeler, also known as the Tuk Tuk. Fares were reasonable menacing, as they appeared, the accident rate was minimal, if at all. I was particularly fortunate. There was a three-wheeler stand adjacent to the hotel. The security service attached to the building not only got one a vehicle but always requested the drivers to look after the passengers. One liked this personal touch. It was reassuring.

On one occasion I took a three-wheeler to the SLNA. I noticed that the driver was extremely young, not much more than twenty. When the security service officer uttered his usual exhortation there was nothing of the comeback. “Thats our duty.” The driver remained silent with his eyes fixed on the very heavy traffic ahead of us. It took nearly 15 minutes to get to the main road, a distance of less than 25 yards. On the main road the congestion was equally heavy.

We hardly moved. The driver's face remained unchanged. It did not show impatience irritation or even sullenness. Inspite of this unusual reaction I did not feel myself in an eerie situation. Yet I could not help feeling that it was odd. After sometime I ventured a question. “How long have you been driving?” Pat came the answer “It's not my fault. The government is carrying out road repairs. Some important people are visiting the country, economic development.”

I rushed to explain I was not criticising him. Far from it, I admired his patience. I followed this apology with a frivolous remark that at least the longer the delay the more money he would be earning. To which his reply was ‘that is a short-term view. When I drop you at the archives I can get another trip.” All this conversation was in Sinhala, with a few English words, economic development, short-term view etc thrown in.. It was quite clear that he had studied English.

I emboldened by what I felt was a non-hostile attitude towards me. I said, “you have at least had your O Levels.” We were now in the quieter and leafy lane of Inner Flower Road. It had its bumps but not the terrifying congestion of the Galle Road. Relaxed, he gave me a resume of his schooling. He had got his O Levels with six credits. English was one of them. He had hoped to do his A Levels but could not afford that; “Surely”, I said “They don't charge fees at the A Level? “No”, he replied. But if you want to pass your exam you have to go to classes”. I had heard of these classes known as “private tuition classes with more than a hundred pupils in each group; I asked if he had tried these classes; He had “They give you questions and answers. You memorise the answers. Sit the exam. Some are successful others are not. “what happens at school?” I asked. “They give lectures. We don't learn anything about the subject. “So, you have decided to become a three-wheeler driver?” I asked. “No” he said. I will save some money and go to the Middle East. The government has plans to help applicants who wish to go to the Middle East.” “It is hard work there,” I said. “Yes I will have some money, come back here and do some business. I will give my children a good education.” “You mean you will send your children to International schools?” “That wont be necessary the government will do something and schools will be better. Things don't stay the same all the time.”

We had reached the SLNA. Seated in the vehicle I paid him the fare together with a tip. He got off his seat and helped me with my files as I got down I was about to shake his hand when he looked hard at me and in a dead pan voice but quite firmly said, “Your English is master piece.”

I was thrown, left without thought or speech, I only heard a vehicle splutter down the road. Did I deserve this scathing parting shot? I had made a few faux pass but had not I shown concern for him?

I must have stoodstill because the gate keeper asked me if I had left something behind in the vehicle. I said, “No” and made my way to the research room in the archives. For the next three hours I stayed there buried in some nineteenth century document.

That evening when I got home the afternoon's experience came back to me. I felt it had said something more than describing an existing situation. Here was a young man who had complete control of his future, felt his own strength and the hold of his roots over him. He saw emigration as a means of meeting the demands made on him. How many took a similar decision with the equanimity this young man had shown? How many resented the decision they were compelled to take?

In my experience even the most desperate who had decided to go to the Middle East deplored the life there. I decided to record my journey on my computer. It is this typescript that I use to seek some answers to some of the questions that I began to ask.

Every year more than a handful of professionals leave Sri Lanka to better their ‘prospects in their fields, to help place their children in prestigious universities and so on.’ We deplore the brain drain. But we are silent about the hundreds of semi-skilled and unskilled young men and women who leave the country for the Middle East.

Are we implying that they are brainless? Couldn't something be done about this senseless brain drain?

These young men and women are no Arabists. They are not going to the Middle East to make contact with traces of the centres of the earliest civilisations. They will not know anything of the exotic belly dancers. Stepping out of line can even cost their lives. They have no illusions about what lies in store for them. They will be in a society that permits no religion other than its own. Harsh living conditions, particularly in the case of men (the women at least live are living in servants though working unspecified hours is their lot). The men have just one aim – to earn some money, purchase the symbols that signify social advance and end their economic and social deprivation. As is the case with all endeavour some reach their goals others fall by the way.

Is there no way out of this hopeless situation? A majority without hope is an anomaly in a Democracy. But it exists in Sri Lanka as perhaps it does in most democracies today. The further you move from the top, the topography that describes the distribution of our socio-economic groups, the professionals, managers of industry and wielders of wealth are a small part of society. By the time one has reached the base one has involuntarily become a drop out.

The Government is pledged to a policy of equal opportunity. The aim is to help all learners get to the top of the educational ladder. Schools at present seek to implement this policy through their academically orientated curriculum. The principle underlying this orientation is the belief that all men are innately intellectual and by definition have an equal right to those positions that demand excellence. Hence the uniformity of the curriculum, a mould into which young minds must fit many may be called but few will be chosen.

If pupils fail to realise this goal, it is argued, it is because of extraneous circumstances. But, all men are equal only in so far as they have the capacity to explore and develop their innate aptitudes. Aptitudes vary widely. Intellectual ability is one of them. Hence the need for subjects academic as well as practical enjoying a parity of status. In concrete terms we are suggesting a diversified curriculum relevant to the individual as well as to society.

A society is not a structure made up uniform of constituent parts. There is an infinite variety constantly coming into existence and seeking revolution. The school has to meet the challenges of this ever widening society and adjust itself not only to new situations but also to new hierarchical orders that emerge in the process. Hierarchy is inseparable from organisation, it is a fact of life. It defines the relation of constituent parts to the whole at a particular point of time. When the value of constituent parts change or new ones come into existence the curriculum seeks to meet the new demands. Faced with this enormous duty schools find themselves having to carry out two functions: equip pupils with a level of literacy to understand and interpret these demands made by society. The curriculum is never static. What only remains the same is the value of the key to learn and understand the changes literacy. Without the key of literacy pupils are shut off from the ever bludgeoning experiences, the key to respond to them according to their aptitudes.

Literacy is indispensable. It is a right every individual demands of society. Sri Lanka has the highest literacy record in the East. Our governments have not failed the people in this regard. We can safely say the structure of the curriculum at the beginning ensures this.

The fist years of a child's schooling is spent in acquiring these skills of Reading, Writing and Arithmetic. That is the concern of Primary education Schools have also been aware of an individual's need to be familiar with basic information and knowledge. Middle school education supplies that over a wide range of fields. This is the stage of acquiring information of knowledge. It is the beginning of the stage of doubt and inquiry in the human psych. But serious dissatisfaction with the curriculum is not felt in the early or even the middle years of the Middle School because learners are still engaged in the business of mastering skills and organising information and knowledge. But when she/he enters the third stage of learning, usually referred to as the Upper School the distance between him/her begins to surface.

The learner finds the preplanned curriculum inadequate. It does not help explore his needs. He finds himself alienated from the curriculum. There is no engagement with what is taught and how it is taught. Motivation is low and so is performance. This leads to boredom and diminishing self confidence and eventually to the phenomenon of involuntary dropping out Parents seek to remedy the situation by providing private tuition. They seem to think that classroom over crowding is the sole cause.

This indeed is responsible for poor classroom performance. But equally there is the fact that learners do not relate to the curriculum because there is a gap between what they need as individuals and what the curriculum offers. The striving to master the skills and information may keep the boredom at only bay temporarily but eventually it surfaces. If extra educational motives only spur the learner the performance is mediocre. Self discovery through learning is the spur to excellence.

What we are suggesting in this situation is a diversified school curriculum in the last four years of schooling. The school responds to the demands made by the individual in a social context. An Individual's derives his evaluation of himself in a social context. We provide an education that helps self realisation within the frame work of social relevance. This is no Utopian dream. Even if it were so, the sources of change have always been utopian visions.

Concretly we are making a tentative suggestion – a curriculum for the final stage at school made up of three parts:

A) Languages – Indigenous and Foreign. The latter in the present context would be English.

B) Environmental studies Housing, Droughts and Floods, Transport etc.

C)Extension of work related courses – These would range from preparing for the professions, clerical workers, mechanics etc.

The present writer is not aware of any formal or informal studies that have been conducted to ascertain the proportion between academic courses and practical in schools in Sri Lanka. A few individuals are attempting to introduce some practical training such as training in Business Managements. But a few swallows do not make a summer. What one needs is government policy and engagement. With advances in technology this work experience is indispensable. It could encourage young school leavers to set up their enterprises. One recalls an incident in 1957. Encouraged by hopes that 1956 held out a young couple in a village in Chilaw migrated to Colombo.

The husband was a tailor of some sorts in the village. He had a sewing machine, the wife had worked as a maid in a small establishment teaching dressmaking. She knew some basics of dressmaking. They moved to Colombo, rented a place in a tiny alley in the Fort and set up a dressmaking ‘business'. The name board read ‘Upper Class Ladies given Fits.’

‘Social striving is irrepressible. Most emerging countries are seeking to meet the challenges of globalisation. They are concerned with issues like Privatisation or Nitionalisation.

These are worthy pursuits but if they are not grounded in a framework of social progress they can hardly hope to meet the grade of democracies. Theories imposed from above hardly solve the nitty gritty of everyday issues.

I wonder if my three-wheeler driver was trying to say something like this when he said “economic development” and things don't remain the some one never knows. I don't think I shall meet him again. If I should I would shake his hand and say “Your Discourse was a masterpiece.”